


The Quartermaster Who Loved Him (The Bondverse Remix)

by fifty_fifty



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Blow Jobs, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25134391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fifty_fifty/pseuds/fifty_fifty
Summary: Merlin Emrys is a researcher and one of Her Majesty’s best and brightest at MI6 headquarters. His latest tech is a huge hit with the secret service and everything seems to be going swimmingly, until a hot new 00 agent comes along and messes things up royally.Or how Merlin and Arthur met, and what happened next.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 201
Collections: Camelot Remix 2020





	The Quartermaster Who Loved Him (The Bondverse Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pendragon, Arthur Pendragon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20556194) by [aoigensou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoigensou/pseuds/aoigensou). 



> Dear Aoigensou, I was rather intimidated to get you to remix, as you have such a way of tailoring words that I just cannot replicate. Despite that I do hope you enjoy this remix and don’t feel like I stepped on the toes of your original work. A huge thank you to my beta reader, [Schweet_heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart). You're amazing! ♥

The first time he comes into the office, Merlin hears him rather than sees him, and with a roll of his eyes he turns his back to carry on with his work. He doesn’t need to have yet another arrogant 00 agent wannabe who thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread demanding his attention. Let Gaius deal with him.

They weren't really called 00's, the secret agents, but Merlin has yet to meet a single one of them that he imagined hadn't wanked themselves silly thinking about being the next James Bond, so in his head he always refers to them as 00's. And from the sound of it, this new guy is not going to be an exception. 

There’s a low murmur of conversation across the room, and Merlin is able to pick out Gaius’ voice and cadence, but not the actual gist of what is being said. No matter. It’s bound to be pointless grandstanding on behalf of the 00, and he’s glad that he doesn’t have to deal with it. He has more important things to be worrying about. He’s been tasked with a rather delicate and secretive project, even by MI6’s standards: how to bottle magic, so to speak. Or at least, how to capture and contain its essence so that the neanderthals that go out on missions can utilise it for the country's benefit. It‘s proven to be a tricky process, and so far it has yet to yield any concrete results. He has successfully managed to capture his magic a couple of times, but it doesn’t last. It deteriorates, leaks out over time. But that’s okay. Merlin isn’t the kind of guy to give up. He loves figuring out a challenge like this. His fingers fly across the keyboard as he starts typing up his latest findings for HQ.

His ears prick up, and he’s pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps tapping across the floor, getting closer. A tingle of anticipation runs down his spine, but he ignores it.

“So, what do you do?” comes a bored voice.

Merlin rolls his eyes. He really doesn’t have time for this, but he knows that Gaius expects him to play nice with the agents. With a put-upon sigh, he stops typing, pushes his chair away from his desk and twirls round to face the man, expecting to see the usual suave, dark-haired model-worthy agent decked out in an expensive suit standing behind him. Instead, the man is leaning casually at the end of his desk, his legs crossed in front of him as though he owns the place. Merlin looks him up and down, sizing him up. He certainly looks the part. Dark suit that fits him like a glove. No tie, his shirt is undone at the collar, with a hint of chest hair and a pair of aviator sunglasses hanging from the neckline. His hair—blond, Merlin notes, which is a nice change—is swept back off of his forehead. At least the hair means Merlin will be able to see him coming among the rest of the 00s. All-in-all, he ticks all of Merlin’s boxes for what he finds attractive in a man. Shame he had to spoil it all by opening his mouth.

They exchange a long look before Merlin asks bluntly, “What do you care?”

The man shrugs. “I’m supposed to be learning what you nerds get up to here in R&D.”

“Look,” says Merlin, taking off his glasses and setting them aside. “You’re new here, so I’ll give you a little bit of advice. You really shouldn’t call the people who are going to save your stupid arse on missions ‘nerds’. It doesn’t go down well.”

The man pulls a face at him. “I think you’d find that _I_ would be the one rescuing _you_.”

Merlin can feel his eyebrows raise, though he doesn’t know why he should be surprised. All the 00 agents are self-absorbed snobs. Well, most of them. The ones who’ve been around for a while aren’t too bad, probably because they’ve been knocked down a notch or two, humbled by their mistakes and missteps. There were a few like Lancelot, who had always been nice to him regardless of their difference in station. And Percival who was just quiet, which was a blessing in and of itself. He’d come in, listen to what Merlin told him and then leave. That was refreshing. 

Merlin twisted in his chair, returning to his report without any further comment and starting to type.

“Hey! You can’t do that,” says the 00. “I’m talking to you!”

“Didn’t seem like much of a conversation,” calls Merlin over his shoulder. “You; big strong man. Me; wimpy swot. I’m not sure there’s anything else left to say. But don’t worry, I’ll still save your arse when you’re an idiot.” He waves his hand dismissively.

“You can’t—” begins the man as he goes around the desk. He clamps his hand on Merlin’s shoulder and wrenches him around. “Do you know who I am!?”

“Ow,” says Merlin, shrugging his hand off and then rubbing his shoulder with a wince. “Yeah, I know who you are. You’re an arse. And I’m a person whose job actually makes a difference.”

The agent splutters angrily. “You wouldn’t even have a job if it weren’t for people like me!”

“Touché!” Merlin agrees with a grin. “You’re right there; Her Majesty’s secret service would not need to employ half as many people if we didn’t have to clean up after prats like you. Congrats, you’re stimulating the economy.” He’s also stimulating certain other parts of Merlin’s anatomy; the man is undeniably attractive. If only he wasn’t such an arse to go with it.

With a snort, the man says, “I already told you, you can’t talk to me like that!”

“What are you going to do about it? Sic your other James Bond-wannabe friends on me?”

The man leans over him, all intense in an attempt to be intimidating. He’s so close that Merlin can see just how clear and blue his eyes really are, and he says calmly and quietly, “I could take you apart with one blow.”

Merlin tilts his head up and meets his gaze head on, his lips curving into a smile as he quirks an eyebrow suggestively. “Yeah? Well, I could take you apart with less than that...”

00 looks a bit shaken by Merlin’s response, but he recovers admirably with a quip of his own. “Are you sure about that?”

“Perfectly,” says Merlin, giving him a wink. “Care to find out?”

00’s mouth drops as though he’d been wrong-footed. His face flushes and he clears his throat several times as he gets ready to issue a response. He has a strange look on his face that Merlin can’t quite seem to get a read on.

“Arthur,” a man calls from the other side of the room. They both glance over at him. It’s Uther Pendragon, one of the bigwigs at the organisation. Merlin tries his best not to look surprised; perhaps this man at this desk is more than just your average 00 if the big boss is calling for him. “Stop harassing the techs and come over here.”

The man—Arthur—shoots Merlin a look, as though he’s amused by him. “There’s something about you, nerd,” he says. “I just can’t put my finger on it.”

***

It’s some time until Merlin sees the handsome blond prat in his lab again, so long that he has almost completely forgotten about him. Almost. But then again, Merlin has been very busy. He’s finally been able to develop a method to capture his spells, suspending them in a liquid, and keep them there indefinitely. No one else has ever been able to bottle magic before, and so it’s a real feather in his cap that he’s finally been able to master it. It won’t be too much longer before they will be allowed to perform tests on human subjects. Though Merlin has been, and will continue to test his creations on himself first. He wants to make sure that they’re safe. That there won’t be any harm to others, or any unexpected side effects on those with magic. The last thing they need on a mission is to kill or maim somebody unexpectedly, but he knows HQ won’t test for such things. In all likelihood, their agents won’t even be told that it’s magic that they are testing; just a new serum developed by a lowly lab rat that has potential for use in the field.

As far as Merlin knows, only he and Gaius have magic at their HQ, and he is NOT going to subject an old man to such a potentially dangerous experiment. Therefore, that just leaves himself. In theory, the tests will go one of two ways: the serum won’t have any effect on him at all, or it will have the same effect on him as it would on anyone. That’s the aim of his experiment, anyway. But he doesn’t want to be responsible for ruining someone else’s life if something happens beyond those parameters.

He jumps as behind him someone slaps down a file on his desk.

“Hey there, lab monkey.”

Merlin turns slowly in his chair and his eyes narrow as he sees the blond-haired 00 agent standing there. Arthur, it turned out, was actually Arthur _Pendragon_ , Uther’s Pendragon’s son. Merlin had discovered this after their first meeting. That still doesn’t change the fact that he’s a prat though. A prat that Merlin is determined to ignore. 

He spins back around to face his computer again.

“Aww, don’t turn away!” says Arthur mockingly.

Merlin smiles to himself and bites his lip, amused. “From you?” he calls, not bothering to turn back.

“Oh, thank God. I thought you were going to ignore me like some kind of child.”

“Look,” says Merlin, as he actually does turn around in his chair. “What do you want? Because I really don’t have time to babysit prats.”

Arthur perches on the edge of his desk again, just like last time, looking smug. “Gaius says you have a new toy to try out.”

Merlin shakes his head. “Not yet. It’s not ready.”

“Is this it?” Arthur asks innocently, picking up the glass dart full of Merlin’s latest serum; a truth spell. 

He has designed it specifically as a tool to help the agents get their jobs done quickly, allowing them to get secrets from their target in record time. He hasn’t tested it yet, but if it’s anything like his other serums for charm and attraction, the spell could potentially have extra potency for those who already possess magic. He’s still working on the formulation and the spell, trying to tweak it to remove that particular side-effect. He’s almost sure now that he has sorted it out, but this latest serum needs at least an initial trial before he will be willing to turn it over to Gaius for further testing. Merlin intends to take it home for testing tonight. 

He only hopes that it won’t lead to him taking an entire week off ‘sick’ like he’d had to when he had tested the attraction spell. He hadn’t been able to go anywhere without peeling every man and woman he met off of him. It had been a bit embarrassing, and the only solution had been to isolate himself in his flat until the serum’s effect finally wore off. A truth spell would be unlikely to result in that, but he certainly did not want to return to work without the ability to lie about things; that way lay madness. All being well, it would wear off within the predicted time period, and he wouldn’t have to worry about that at all.

“Put that down!” Merlin admonishes.

Arthur pouts at him, and Merlin’s heart does a flip before he steels himself. Arthur Pendragon is _not_ adorable and he absolutely does _not_ find him attractive. He doesn’t have time to find anyone attractive. He’s well on his way to making history by becoming the youngest quartermaster in MI6 history: Gaius is well overdue for retirement, and these days he always calls on Merlin to be in charge in his absence, so it’s only a matter of time. He and Gaius have worked solidly together for several years now, and Merlin fancies his chances when Gaius finally stands down, plus he’s pretty sure Gaius will put a good word in for him. Merlin isn’t about to throw all of that away by getting involved with his boss’s boss’s son. 

Besides, Arthur probably doesn’t bend that way. The 00s are all _notorious_ womanisers.

Merlin fixes Arthur with his best stern stare until he slowly starts to put the dart back down on the desk.

“Thank you.”

“What is it, anyway?” Arthur asks, still staring at it. Merlin is flattered that he’s interested in his work, but he doesn’t have the time to entertain an agent that likely won’t be smart enough to get it.

He snatches the serum off of the desk and deposits it by his computer, glaring at Arthur. He doesn’t trust 00s; they often have sticky fingers. “None of your business. Now buzz off and let me get on with my work.”

***

Merlin spots the 00 skulking around the office several more times after that.

He spies him one quiet Wednesday afternoon when, by all rights, he has no reason to be there. Still, as long as Arthur doesn’t come over to bother him, Merlin doesn’t really care what he gets up to. It’s not his business.

The next time, Merlin finds himself bumping into Arthur is on his way to the kitchen. Literally. 

And of course, there is that other time when Merlin goes out on a mission to keep an eye on the latest expensive prototype that Gaius built. Arthur isn’t happy to discover him there. Especially when it all goes tits up, and they end up squeezed into a broom cupboard for half an hour to keep from being discovered.

He’s been continuing work on his serums. Human testing has been successful and they’ve already sent one of the formulas out into the field, to lots of praise from the agents. Now, even the clumsiest amongst them can charm any intended target. It has been so successful that Merlin has found himself wondering if they will even need the 00s for much longer. If they don’t, it will hardly be the worst thing in the world. But then again… he has to admit he would miss the eye candy about the office. 

Speaking of eye candy, Blondie is over on the far side of the office, talking to Gaius about something or other. It doesn’t look to be going well, judging by the flailing of Arthur’s arms. Good. Merlin is glad that Gaius is giving him a hard time. He’s looking forward to when _he’ll_ be the quartermaster and Arthur will have to come to _him_ with his requests, and, even better, when Merlin will be able to summon him to his office to test out new gadgetry. He can’t wait to see the look of outrage on Arthur’s face the first time that he does that.

He sits back for a moment and closes his eyes, allowing himself a little daydream of the occasion, unable to suppress a smile at the idea.

“What’s made you so happy all of a sudden? Is it me?” comes a familiar voice.

Merlin’s eyes snap open with a scowl as he registers who it is. “No!” he says vehemently. 

Judging by Arthur’s hint of a smug grin, however, he feels as though he may have overdone it a tad, rendering his protest feckless. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

“Funny,” says Merlin. “I wasn’t aware 00 training extended to teaching English Literature, let alone Shakespeare. You even spoke the line correctly. There might be hope for you cavemen yet.”

“Did you just call us 00s?” 

“Yeah. Isn’t that your deepest most beloved fantasy?” smirks Merlin knowingly.

Arthur falters for half a second and Merlin knows he’s scored a direct hit. 

“Does that make you Q then, or Miss Moneypenny?” Arthur asks finally, with a triumphant glint in his eye. 

“I don’t think I have the legs to pull off Moneypenny. And before you say it, I’m ill-qualified to be Pussy Galore.”

***

Merlin lifts a report from his desk. Strange—he could have sworn he’d left the vial there, but he’s checked all over his desk three times now, and he still hasn’t found it. He gets down on his hands and knees to check beneath his workstation. Maybe it’s rolled off the desk without him noticing. He feels around on the cold, dusty floor, annoyed at himself. It’s too dark down here to see much of anything; when he had started at MI6 he had opted for a low-lighting workstation, knowing he would work long hours to get his job done. But he’s regretting it now. Oh well, one little spell here in the office won’t hurt will it? It’s not as though anyone can see him right now. 

“ _Leoht_ ,” he whispers, and a small ball of light appears in the palm of his hand. He lets it float out of his hand and hover nearby as he pushes aside months of dust and bundles of disorganised cables. 

“You should be more careful,” says a voice, and Merlin jumps, banging his head on the underside of his desk. His heart almost beats out of his chest as fear grips him, and the ball of light disappears as quickly as it appeared.

He swallows and cautiously pokes his head out from under the desk.

Lancelot smiles down at him. “Wouldn’t want anyone to see you getting up to your old tricks,” he says quietly.

“God, Lancelot. You almost scared me half to death,” says Merlin. Lancelot shrugs sheepishly as Merlin crawls out from under the desk. Merlin runs a hand through his disheveled hair and pushes his glasses to straighten them. “What do you want?” he asks, cutting straight to the chase.

“I need something that will knock out a two-hundred and fifty pound man?”

Merlin sighs. “Why do you guys always have to resort to things like that?”

“Better than killing him. I’d like to avoid that if at all possible. So, do you think you have anything that could help with that?”

“Fine,” grumbles Merlin as he pulls open a drawer and rummages around in it. The 00s always seem to think that he can produce any tool or gadget that they need within a matter of moments. In this case, however, he thinks that he can help. “Where are you...” he mutters as he searches the drawer. “Aha! There you go.” 

He pulls out the desired item, a small grey container, and drops it into Lancelot’s hand.

“Two of those and he’ll be out like a light.”

“Roofies?” says Lancelot, raising his eyebrows.

“Says the man who came to my desk asking for a way to knock out another man. You can always bother someone else for some tranq darts or deliver a well-placed punch. Or!” exclaims Merlin; he’s just had a thought. He opens a cupboard and runs his fingers along a collection of glass vials. He plucks one out and holds it out to Lancelot, “Alternatively, you could always use a sleeping gas, so long as you’re careful not to breathe it in yourself.”

Lancelot sighs and accepts the vial, pocketing it with the container. “I was rather hoping you might have a more… specialised form of weaponry.”

Merlin shakes his head. “Not yet. They’re not ready. Let’s get the other serums working properly first of all.”

“Come on. I’d be careful, I swear!” Merlin gives him what he’s hoped is an intimidating stare and Lancelot sighs before backing down. “Fine. I’ll do it the old-fashioned way. Thanks, Merlin.”

Merlin watches him leave for a few moments. He pulls off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose as his thoughts turn back to his missing experimental vial. It isn’t like him to misplace it. He has a very good memory and he is certain it had been on his desk that afternoon, because it was another serum that he had been intending on taking it home to trial.

It isn’t in any of his drawers or cupboards. It isn’t under any paperwork. It isn’t on the floor. So where is it? 

He mentally lists all the places he’s been that day, wondering if he might have put it down somewhere along the way. But he’s sure he would remember if he had. The only thing he can think of is that someone had accidentally picked it up when they’d come to his desk. Or… perhaps not so accidentally.

Whirling around in his chair, he taps his password into his computer, rapidly opening a few programmes and typing in some commands. He selects the office’s surveillance footage for the day. He isn’t stupid. Neither are any of the R&D team. They all know that they’re being filmed at all times when they’re in the main office. 

Merlin starts watching the footage—sped up of course. He hasn’t got all night. He watches with an eager eye to see who enters and leaves the office, making a special note of anyone who isn’t R&D. There are a few of the usual suspects: the cleaners; Daegal, who was currently interning; a lot of the other techs coming in and out. But otherwise, it had been a normal, quiet morning, much as he had expected. He’d been at his desk for most of the day, barring that meeting downstairs. He sat up, and got ready to pay attention as he saw himself on the footage leaving the office. The big question was, had anyone come in whilst he’d been away from his desk?

Drumming his fingers, Merlin slams his hand down on the desk when he spots Arthur Pendragon strolling into the office, as bold as brass. He makes a beeline for Gaius, and they appear to have a serious conversation. If only there were some audio... Merlin slows the footage down and watches carefully. It definitely looks like a vigorous debate. Arthur seems to want something, maybe? And Gaius seems reluctant to give in to him. Finally, Gaius’ shoulders slump and Merlin knows that, whatever it is that they had been arguing about, Arthur had been the victor.

They walk together towards Merlin’s workspace, and Merlin’s jaw drops as he watches Gaius pick up his latest serum from his desk and pass it to Arthur.

Spluttering indignantly, he shoves himself away from his desk, getting to his feet. He storms across the open plan lab towards Gaius’s private office and flings open the door. 

“Ah. Geoffrey, can I give you a call back?” Gaius says, eyeing up Merlin as he stomps up to his desk.

Gaius hangs up the phone with a casualness that belies the fact that he has a rather angry R&D tech at his desk. Once the phone is securely back in place, he steeples his hands.

“Ah, Merlin,” he begins. “What can I do for you?”

“You know damn well what you can do!” Merlin yells, barely able to refrain from banging his hand down on the table. “You can tell me why you _stole_ my latest experiment to give to Arthur Pendragon!”

Gaius sighs and gets up to close the office door. “Merlin, please, calm down,” he says, gesturing for Merlin to sit down. Merlin ignores the request.

“Calm down!? Why should I? You stole my work and gave it to—to that blond prat! I demand to know why!” 

Having settled at his desk again, Gaius clasps his hands and waits patiently for Merlin to finish his rant, one of his infamous eyebrows raised. “Are you done?”

“No, I’m not done!” snaps Merlin. “You had no right to do that. You had no right! Just because Arthur is the boss’s son that doesn’t mean that he is entitled to just waltz in here and demand whatever he wants!”

“I think you’ll find that the contract you signed when you started working here means anything you create within this building belongs to MI6. And Arthur didn’t demand anything. I got the call directly from Uther himself.”

Merlin groans. “Gaius, you can’t pull that card on me, surely! That experiment is mine, and you know it. Literally. It’s my magic in the serum! It’s a part of me. Not to be used haphazardly by any old agent who fancies having a go. It should be used sparingly, at least until we can find other magic users who are able to do it. Why would you allow it?”

“Arthur is on a case of national importance. We need results and we need them quickly, or we’ll miss an ideal opportunity,” Gaius says. 

Merlin paces the room. “You should have stood up to them. You should have said no, if for no other reason than it’s not ready. This batch hasn’t even been tested! I was planning on testing it myself over the weekend. Anything could happen. I don’t understand; you of all people should know what a risk that is.”

“I didn’t have a choice. Uther had already decided. He wants your serums fast-tracked into use by the agents. You should be thrilled, Merlin. They’ve been a huge success already. All the agents are clamouring for them.”

Shaking his head, Merlin continues to pace as he processes it all. “Well, I’m not thrilled,” he states bluntly. “Why would I be? Why would any responsible scientist want that? It _needs_ to be tested.”

“I can’t help that, Merlin. My hands are tied. You’ll just have to consider tonight it’s test run,” Gaius says.

“That’s irresponsible and you know it.” 

He turns to face Gaius, crossing his arms obstinately, and they both stare at each other for some time. Merlin can’t believe that Gaius is being such a pushover. Why doesn’t he ever stand up to Uther? When Merlin is Q, he won’t be afraid of standing up to anyone. He will do whatever it takes to keep people safe.

After a few moments facing Gaius’ formidable eyebrow, it becomes apparent that he is not going to budge, and whilst Merlin might be a hotshot amongst the R&D team, fast-tracked to the division before he’d even finished university, in this case, he is hopelessly outranked.

“Fine. If it’s a test run, then I insist on being there to observe the experiment's effects. It’s the _responsible_ thing to do.”

Gaius sighs and taps his chin thoughtfully. “I understand your anger, my boy. And despite what you think, I can see your point of view. Leave it with me, and I’ll see what I can arrange.”

***

Merlin chucks his backpack and laptop case down on the bed and runs a hand through his hair. He’s been working non-stop ever since he had spoken with Gaius. It had been a nervous half-hour before the quartermaster had given him the green light to join the assignment at the last minute, and the delay had meant Merlin had had to rush home from the lab with everything he thought he’d need. Once there, he’d had minutes to pack a suit and a change of clothes before jumping in a taxi straight to the airport and jetting off to Monaco. He’d made the flight, but barely.

It’s been quite the night already, and the assignment hasn’t even started yet. He checks the time on his wristwatch. Good. He at least has enough time to shower and grab something to eat, before preparing for the night ahead.

***

The casino is a strange juxtaposition of bright lights and darkened corners. Merlin has been here a while already, sequestered in one of said darkened corners with a beer in hand. He isn’t going to be so ridiculously cliche as to order a fucking martini on a secret service assignment. He entertains no James Bond 007esque illusions for himself; he just wants to keep an eye on his new tech and make sure that no one gets hurt. That’s it. Once this mission is over, he wants nothing better than to go back to his hotel room, enjoy the privacy and decadence of staying in a five star hotel on the government’s money, and have a good night's sleep before he has to jet off home again.

Surrounded by the low thrum of music and conversation, Merlin wonders who he will spot first—their target, Guinevere Smith (Gwen to her friends) with her entourage, or Arthur. Surely Arthur. From what Merlin has gleaned from reading his case reports, Arthur is methodical and predictable on assignment, and he likes to be prepared. If Merlin were a 00, but only if, mind you—he likes to imagine he would be a bit more innovative than Arthur, but Arthur’s methods undeniably produce results, so he can’t really pull him up on that. Fortunately, there are plenty of other things to fault him on. The way he treats R&D, for one. It also hasn’t escaped Merlin’s notice that Arthur is an agent who will happily seduce either men _or_ women. He knows that it’s part of the job, and that some agents will do whatever it takes to secure their mission, but for some agents, seducing men is strictly off limits. Regardless, Merlin tucks that intriguing bit of information away for _private_ use.

Merlin taps his fingers against his beer glass. He hates to admit it, but he’s bored. He likes to be _doing_ something. Making things. Not hanging around waiting for something to happen. It’s yet another reason why he’s happy to leave the spy game to the 00s; he just doesn’t have the patience for stakeouts. 

Just as he’s contemplating whether or not it to get a second pint, Merlin catches a glimpse of blond hair in the gap between two people who are walking past the bar. His heart skips a beat. Sure enough, Arthur has arrived. 

He’s heart-achingly handsome with his hair carefully coiffed and clad in a tux that fits him like a glove. As much as Merlin wants to deny it, he knows that he is smitten, though he’ll never give Arthur the satisfaction of knowing it. Besides, nothing could ever come of it. 

Arthur speaks with the barman and orders a drink. He takes a seat on a barstool and Merlin rolls his eyes as the barman hands him a martini. Merlin will bet his life that Arthur has ordered it “shaken, not stirred”. What a walking cliché. 

He doesn’t have long to dwell on this before most eyes in the casino fall on Gwen Smith as she enters the floor, the epitome of glamor and style in a long, shimmery yellow dress. Leaning on her arm is her best friend, Morgana LeFay, similarly attired. The rest of their group filters in closely behind them. 

Merlin’s eyes flit back over to Arthur, who is watching Gwen intently. He knows that Arthur’s mission is to seduce her in order to gain access to specs for some nanotech from Essetir Industries. Gaius is as desperate as Camelot Corp to get his hands on them so that they can replicate Tom Smith, Guinevere’s father’s work for themselves. Though, privately, Merlin thinks that if they simply gave _him_ more time and resources, he could likely come up with something similar eventually. 

Unfortunately, time is a luxury that they don’t have. They aren’t the only ones after these plans, and MI6 will be damned if they let their enemies get their hands on them first. 

Things had all clicked into place once Merlin found out the specifics of Arthur’s mission. He realises now why Gaius had been willing to give him the serum. He still disagrees with the decision, but at least he’s here if anything goes awry. 

He’s been splitting his attention between Gwen Smith’s group and Arthur sitting at the bar, so Merlin spots the opportunity at almost the same time as Arthur does. As he watches Arthur beckon the bartender, he suddenly perks up. He can feel the strangest thing... There are small tendrils of magic slowly weaving their way through the room, sinister enough to make Merlin’s gut lurch. They want Gwen, and he can’t let them have her. He gets to his feet, scanning the room for the source of the spell. Arthur will be mad that he’s interfering with his mission, but Arthur doesn’t even know that magic exists, let alone how to protect himself from it. He needs Merlin. And it wouldn’t be the first time that an R&D tech has intervened in an emergency. It’s far better that Gwen stay safe from whomever is weaving this spell.

He’s so distracted by the errant magic that he doesn’t even sense it coming. There’s a sharp jab in his arm, and Merlin glances down at the dart stuck in it, pausing as he desperately tries to process what has happened. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck! The 00s are supposed to be professionals! How the fuck had Arthur managed to miss?

Never mind that. He can scold Arthur for it later. He can already feel the serum rushing through his veins and starting to have its intended effect. 

It stirs him into action, and he stalks over to Arthur. They’ve been compromised now, and he needs to get them both out of here. Arthur might still have thoughts of completing the mission, but for Merlin the mission is a complete fuck up, and since Arthur is the one who caused it, he needs to help Merlin deal with it. He knows it won’t be too long before the more… extreme effects of the serum started to kick in. He grabs Arthur by the arm and starts to drag him out of the casino bar. He’s not sure where they’re going, but they sure as hell can’t stay here. He needs to find somewhere semi-private, and quick.

***

Once inside the lift, Merlin presses himself up against the wall, trying to fight against the serum’s effects. Wanking in the cloakroom was great, but it’s done little to nothing to take the edge off, and if this follows the path of his other experiments, it’s only going to get worse. The serum is _supposed_ to take around half an hour to kick in and last for several hours. It had kicked in for him in less than a minute. He had known that it would likely be potent to a sorcerer, but he hadn’t anticipated it being quite _this_ potent.

He looks Arthur up and down, jealous that he too isn’t similarly afflicted. He still looks delicious and perfect, and if you didn’t know, you’d never suspect that he’d come just a few moments ago. The only indication he gives of anything untoward is the slight flush of colour high on his cheeks. 

Merlin holds his breath as the doors slipped closed, thankful, if for nothing else, that they’re alone. Things would have been infinitely worse waiting in a lift with other people whilst all Merlin can think about is how he needs sex or another wank more than he has ever needed anything in his life.

Arthur pushes a button for the third floor, and as the lift starts to judder into life, Merlin’s resolve—rather admirable, considering the circumstances—breaks, and he pounces on Arthur.

He grasps Arthur by the lapels of his jacket and indulges himself as his eyes roam the vast expanse of Arthur’s chest, taking in the way it heaves as he breathes. As his gaze travels higher, he pauses to watch the way Arthur’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and then the proud, sharp jut of his chin, dusted with barely-there stubble, his eyes travelling all the way up to those soft, plush lips that are begging for a kiss… and that beautiful slightly crooked aquiline nose... Until he finally meets Arthur’s gaze, looking deep into clear blue eyes with pupils blown wide. 

“Hey,” says Arthur quietly, as though they aren’t in a lift in the middle of a casino, having royally fucked up their mission.

“Hey yourself,” Merlin replies, kicking himself for being so weak. Spell or no spell, he’s determined _not_ to be a slave to his libido. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to calm down, loosening his grip on Arthur’s tux and backing away. 

“Now, now, Merlin. You’re not going shy on me, are you?” taunts Arthur.

Merlin huffs out a laugh and is unable to stop himself from leaning towards Arthur, pressing his raging hard-on into his thigh. “Does that answer your question?” he asks. “I hardly think having a wank in the cloakroom with a work acquaintance still lets me qualify as shy.”

Arthur’s lips curve into a smug smile. “No,” he agrees. “It doesn’t.”

They hold each other's gaze for a long moment. Merlin is ridiculously tempted to do something stupid, like hit the stop button on lift whilst he snogs Arthur’s brains out to save waiting to get to the hotel room. He clenches his fists tightly, the nails biting into his skin as he tries to resist the impulse. Arthur’s arm shoots out, smacking the button, and the lift shudders to a stop. 

Apparently Arthur had the same thought.

“Arthur,” Merlin hisses, unable to believe a spy would do something so unbelievably dumb as to _deliberately_ get themself stuck in a lift in such a compromising position.

But Arthur fixes him with a determined stare and pushes Merlin back against the wall, pinning him there with a hungry look. 

As Arthur sinks to his knees, Merlin’s head falls back with a thunk against the metal. How has his life become so bizzare? This is like something from one of those bad spy novels that Arthur seems to be fond of. 

“One of these days... once I get you out of this suit, I’ll get you into a proper, decent one. Honestly, Merlin where did you get this? Primark? It’s hideous,” Arthur comments, making quick work of Merlin’s button and flies to free his cock.

Merlin is brought back to reality with a bump. “I like your mouth much better when you’re not talking,” he grouses.

“I thought this serum was supposed to make it _easier_ to seduce a person? Because I swear you’re being nothing but more and more difficult. You should make a note of that for the write up of your experiment.”

“Yeah, well, some of us aren’t just going to melt at the presence of a good-looking man,” lies Merlin, swallowing hard. He wants to come so badly his vision is starting to blur, and he’s finding himself more than a little short of breath. But despite all of that, he’s glad that he’s only under the effects of a lust spell right now and not a truth one.

“Please! I could drive you crazy without even laying a finger on you,” says Arthur.

“If you don’t lay a finger on me now, I’ll do it for you,” gasps Merlin. Batting away Arthur’s hand to pump his own fist along his cock, he groans at how good it feels to finally get some relief. 

“Fuck…” Arthur whispers, pausing to watch Merlin’s hand moving in fast, rhythmic tugs. “Look, I don’t know why you have to make this so difficult— Can’t you just let me— Will you just let me— ”

Merlin’s rhythm falters and slows. “Let you what?” he asks, smiling a little too predatorily for his words to be innocent and looking down at Arthur through his lashes for good measure.

Arthur sits back on his heels, and by the look on his face, Merlin may have pushed him a bit too far.

“Look, I’m not going to beg you to let me do it!” he splutters. “There are plenty of other _normal_ blokes who would gladly beg _me_ to suck their cock. Do you want this or not?”

Merlin’s breath catches in his throat. “Yeah,” he says, slightly dazed. “Go on then.”

“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all night,” Arthur grumbles. Merlin watches as he licks his lips and pushes Merlin’s hand away. Then, with a filthy grin, he slowly licks a long strip along the length of Merlin’s cock.

A desperate noise slips from Merlin’s lips, unbidden. He’s already on the edge, just from a single lick; at this rate, he won’t be able to last for long. Arthur looks up at him and winks before he laps at the head of Merlin’s cock, flicking the tip of his tongue at Merlin’s slit. Merlin holds back a moan, barely, and Arthur continues, mouthing his way along the length of him. Merlin’s knees almost buckle as Arthur takes him in his mouth, his lips stretched wide around his cock. 

So, the rumours are true. This is definitely not the first time that Arthur has sucked cock. These are not the moves of a bloke who doesn’t know his way around another man’s body. It makes Merlin shudder with anticipation, and already he can feel the heat beginning to pool in his belly, his magic buzzing and coiling beneath his skin.

Arthur starts to slowly, teasingly, bob his head and Merlin’s hips jerk forward. Arthur pulls off, his lips obscenely red and shiny, a line of spit stretching between his mouth and Merlin’s cock. He pushes Merlin back into the wall with a hard shove. The metal is cold against the overheated skin of Merlin’s hands as he presses his palms against it. Arthur keeps him pinned by the hips and with a piercing blue gaze. As his eyes linger solely on Merlin, Merlin knows in this moment that he would do anything, everything, to have Arthur look at him like that always.

He takes Merlin’s cock back in his mouth and sucks hard. Merlin’s pulls at the collar of his shirt, finding it difficult to catch his breath as his cock throbs and he has to steady himself, anchoring himself back in reality by threading his fingers through Arthur’s soft, silky hair. 

His magic buzzes, shimmering behind his eyes and twisting in his gut like a tightly wound spring fit to break. The serum only serves to heighten it all, doubling down on the hum of magic he usually feels during sex. 

As Arthur slowly works his way up and down Merlin’s cock, Merlin tightens his grip in his hair. _“Fuck,”_ he breathes. “You’re not half bad at this...”

Arthur glares up at him and redoubles his efforts.

Using his hand, Merlin decides to push his luck. He pulls Arthur’s head towards him, encouraging Arthur to take him deeper into his mouth, helping to build a steady rhythm. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he murmurs. “You like this, don’t you?” He raises his free hand and rubs a thumb along Arthur’s jaw, pressing gently against his cheekbone. “I know I do. I have to say, I was—I was a bit surprised. I wasn’t sure that you’d be interested in sucking cock. But I’m glad you are. A mouth like yours was _made_ for it. I think you’re wasted as a spy. You should just do this. I could have you under my desk.”

Arthur groans, and it reverberates along the length of Merlin’s cock. “Shit,” Merlin sighs. “That was... Do it again.”

Obliging him, Arthur hums eagerly and Merlin’s eyes roll back. This just might be the best blow job he’s had in his life. Ever. He uses his hand to urge Arthur on; he’s so, so close… But Arthur pulls off again with a wet pop and Merlin whines. There’s no denying it, not even to himself. 

He glances down at Arthur with a mixture of surprise and annoyance, opening his mouth to complain, but it dies on his tongue as Arthur pushes Merlin’s trousers and underwear down his thighs and starts to mouth at his balls. 

“Oh,” Merlin whispers as Arthur sucks his balls into his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, that’s… Fuck...” 

He strokes a finger teasingly along Merlin’s taint and with a hoarse voice murmurs against his cock, “If you come again now, will you still be able to come when I fuck you in my room?”

Merlin’s cock gives a violent jerk, and he tightens his grip on Arthur’s hair in an effort to keep from coming. Arthur grimaces, but otherwise doesn’t complain. “Ah, fuck. Shit. Give me some warning, why don’t you?” Arthur looks up at him with raised eyebrows. “Yes, yes. Just, please. These, these things, the— the serums they normally— They normally last quite a while. Just. Let me… I want— I need to—”

Arthur grins as he drags his tongue along Merlin’s sensitive cock, and his wayward finger travels further between Merlin’s legs, slowly circling his hole. Merlin lets out a breathy moan, his head falling back again against the cold metal as his cock is once again engulfed by the wet heat of Arthur’s mouth. Arthur works his lips and throat, taking more and more of Merlin in with each bob of his head until his nose is buried deep in Merlin’s curls. Merlin can feel Arthur exhaling through his nose, against his skin, and his cock jerks. He reaches for Arthur’s shoulder, gripping it with a low groan as Arthur starts to push the tip of his finger into Merlin’s tight furl. He gently, slowly wiggles the tip inside, and Merlin lets out a low cry.

“Shit— I...” Arthur eases his finger further, stroking inside him. Merlin’s magic sparks, and it feels amazing, like everything and not enough. Merlin is sure that he’s going to explode. His hands find Arthur’s hair again. “Ah— Arthur,” he says, his voice strained. “Arthur—I’m going to, I need to—” 

Lights explode behind Merlin’s eyes as he throbs his release deep down Arthur’s throat, and his magic bursts from within him. The lift starts to shudder, the lights flickering madly. Arthur pulls off and reaches out a hand to steady himself, glancing around anxiously. Within a few moments, however, the lift rights itself and judders back to life, humming and lurching before it starts to rise.

Merlin laughs nervously. “That was a bit—” He trails off as he notices that Arthur is staring at him, the strangest look on his face..

“Your eyes…” he says. “They’re glowing. Merlin, why are your eyes glowing?”

“Magic,” says Merlin with a tired grin, glad for the reprieve from the serum’s effects, even if he knows his hard on will come roaring back in a few minutes. “I already told you. I have magic.”

“I thought you were kidding me!”

Merlin shakes his head as the lift comes to a stop. “I told you before. I’m serious. I have magic.”

He cups his hands and whispers the ancient words, smiling as he feels the fluttering of new life between his palms. He opens his hands and a small blue butterfly flies from them, making its way through the air.

Arthur stares in wonder as the doors ping open. “You weren’t kidding,” he says with quiet awe as they watch the butterfly leave the lift.

“Nope,” Merlin agrees, stumbling through the door. He grabs Arthur by the arm, the effects of the serum already making themselves felt again. “I was serious about experimenting, too.” 

He reels Arthur in and dares to give him a kiss, keeping it slow and careful until Arthur opens his mouth. Then it suddenly turns hot and heavy as Arthur slams them into the wall, and they make out until they need to break for air. If the serum hadn’t brought Merlin to a rock hardness already, he certainly would have been well on the way towards it after that. 

He tugs Arthur by the lapels of his jacket. “Come on. My room.”

“I think you’ll find,” begins Arthur, pressing his forehead to Merlin’s, “that this is my mission, _Mer_ lin. I should be the one giving the orders.”

“Yeah?” says Merlin, slipping from Arthur’s grasp. “You ready? Let’s go?” And he starts running down the hallway towards his room, as Arthur gives chase with a curse.

***

“Okay, where to next?” asks Arthur, his voice tinny in Merlin’s ear. Merlin smiles, tapping in a few commands on his keyboard. 

“To your left. Wait, no! Right! To your right.”

Merlin can see Arthur rolling his eyes as he looks up and glares right into the surveillance camera, and it has all the same effect as though he were actually there with Merlin in person.

“It’s an easy mistake to make!” Merlin protests.

“A mistake that could have gotten me killed,” Arthur grumbles, turning right and carrying on down the corridor.

Merlin frowns at his monitor. “You know I’d never let that happen,” he says, his voice softening. His eyes scan his array of monitors. “The whole floor is clear.”

He watches as Arthur makes his way through a maze of corridors at his direction, until one of the screens starts to flash with a warning.

“Arthur, you have company. Mr King just entered the building. He’s taking his private lift to the penthouse suite. You need to be quick,” says Merlin.

“How long do I have?”

“Not long. Just get the data and get out.” Merlin types in some commands on a different screen. “I can slow his lift speed by about twenty percent before it will become noticeable.”

“All right, I’m in at the suite, I—” 

Merlin can hear the lock click and sees the light flash on the keypad, and Arthur smiles as he lets himself in. 

“The office is through the room to your left. A further locking system here. This one requires biometrics.”

“Can you get me past it?” Arthur asks as he draws his gun and glances around the room.

“Pfft. I could do it in my sleep. I was hacking security systems when I was in school. I’m not Q for nothing, you know.”

“Yes, as you like to tell me. All the time,” complains Arthur.

“I know you’re proud of me, really.”

Gaius had retired to much pomp and circumstance a few months before and recommended Merlin as his replacement. After much debate, he’d finally been appointed Quartermaster a few weeks ago. He was now officially the youngest in MI6’s history, as he’d anticipated. Even Uther hadn’t been able to deny how much Merlin’s work had, and continued to contribute to MI6’s success. But the relationship between Q and M is decidedly fractious and hasn’t been helped by M finding out that Merlin was dating his son.

“Arthur. He’s almost to the top floor. Hurry, we need that data.”

“I know. I’m at the office door. How do I open it?”

“You don’t. I do. Now, I’m warning you, you’ll be on your own once you’re inside. No visuals in the office. I’ll do what I can to slow King, but…”

“Yes, yes. Just get me in.”

Merlin hits a button on his keyboard and the door beeps and Arthur disappears inside. Merlin turns his attention to the monitor showing the footage of inside the lift. King is waiting inside patiently. Merlin bites his lip. King only has five more floors to go. He can’t let Arthur get caught.

“How are you getting on?” he asks Arthur, in his politest voice. “You know, I was thinking, what do you want for dinner tomorrow night?”

Arthur sputters down the radio link. “How can you be thinking about dinner at a time like this?”

“I’m hungry! We could always order a curry.”

“Merlin!” 

“Or Chinese? Oh! We could order from that new Thai place!”

“Merlin...” deadpans Arthur. 

“Shut up?” Merlin suggests.

Arthur makes a small noise of frustration. “I can’t find the fucking USB port!”

“King is a designer, remember? He uses a touchscreen computer. The hard drive is in the base of the monitor, so the USB port will be—” Merlin casts his eyes to the screen monitoring King. “Oh, shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

Merlin’s fingers fly across the keyboard as he cuts the power to King’s lift, halting it in its tracks and plunging him into darkness.

“Nothing. Well, nothing now. I just brought you more time. Cenred King is spending a little quality time in his lift whilst you finish off here.”

“Finishing off in lifts is your specialty, if I recall correctly,” says Arthur slyly.

Merlin chokes a little before he swallows, then clears his throat and replies smoothly, “Aren’t you supposed to be locating that USB port, rather than reliving past glories?”

“I don’t know, I’m rather fond of that one…”

Merlin rolls his eyes. Trust Arthur to want to crow about his sexual prowess in the middle of a time-sensitive mission. Sometimes he’s such a typical 00 that Merlin has no idea why he’s fallen for him so hard. At first, he had convinced himself that the inconvenient feelings were a side effect of the serum, but Arthur had persisted in bugging him at his office on a regular basis, even being so bold as to ask him out. When Merlin had rejected his advances, he had somehow managed to get his phone number on Merlin’s phone—Merlin’s still not sure exactly how he managed that. But he has money on Arthur bribing Daegal with something or other. He’s the only researcher with the level of skill required to hack Merlin’s phone. And then Arthur had gone on to bug him at home, too. One thing had led to another, and Merlin had found himself saying yes to a date, which had led to going back to Arthur’s and a repeat of their night in Monaco. And he’d never left. Arthur had had much more space for all his tech gear, anyhow.

“Did you get the data yet?” Merlin asks. “I can’t hold King in that lift much longer without him smelling a rat.”

“I— Just a minute…” Arthur makes a triumphant noise. “Found it. Transferring the data now.” 

“Good. Once the data is transferred, press the red button on the top of the USB drive,” says Merlin, turning the lights back on in Cenred King’s lift. “It will leave a little present for King that will allow us to track everything he does from now on.”

“Wow, you quartermasters are a sneaky lot.”

“Says the 00. Are you done?”

“It’s done,” Arthur confirms. “Heading out.” 

Merlin smiles and watches as he comes back into camera range and slips quickly from the suite. The relief he feels is palpable.

“That was a bit _too_ close,” he tells Arthur as he brings back the power to rest of the floor. 

“I was fine. I always am.” Merlin doesn’t need to see his face to know that Arthur is rolling his eyes at him. His voice creeps into Merlin’s ear, quiet and intimate. “See you at home soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there soon.” He pauses and cuts the recording of the footage and sound. “I love you, Arthur.”


End file.
